Frosted
by BlueSuedeShoes23
Summary: During a chance encounter with the ice queen of Arendelle, Jack Frost agrees to 'tutor' her in all things snow. However, personalities collide as Jack discovers that teaching the queen and getting along with her are two "entirely separate things". With a questionable menace lurking in the shadows, how can he possibly thaw her frozen heart...and save the world? Slightly AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just fyi: This story takes place before the events of Frozen and after the events of Rise of the Guardians. Elsa's coronation was successful, and she is now queen of Arendelle. No one knows she has her powers (...yet), and she is still struggling for control over them. Other than that, you should be good to go! I was going to explain this later in the story, but I don't see why I can't tell you ahead of time. :) Enjoy! -BlueSuedeShoes23**

Elsa, fair queen of Arendelle, sat upright upon her throne in her grand and tapestried hall. The epitome of poise, grace, and regality, she looked before her waiting subjects with calm detachment and patience.

A quick scan of the room revealed to her a group of portly men with aprons and rolled-up sleeves. Her gaze lingered, and many of their faces grew red with unease under it. She raised a considering brow.

This was the butchers' guild. They want salt for preserving their meats, as they always did this time of year. However, she had recently discovered that the traders of Bolgeria hadn't brought forth the agreed amount of salt in exchange for Arendelle's pine perfumes. This meant the salt would be delayed another two months at the least, and by then the butchers' meats would be sure to spoil. Yet there was simply not enough salt to go around. The salt Arendelle did possess was needed to clear the ice from the cobble roads during these cold months, and already a substantial amount had been used. No, there was not a chance they would be getting any amount from her. It was a hard lesson, but it was one that must be taught if they were ever to stay self-sufficient.

…Or…perhaps she could cut down which roads she salted by choosing only the heavy-traffic areas. There would be complaints from those residing in low-traffic areas, but these could be dealt with. A group of unemployed butchers….not so easily.

And so, before the butchers had said even a word, their queen had heard their case. After a revealing and succinct interview, they were sent on their way with three carriages full of salt, a stern reprimand for their consistent annual neediness, and a growing bafflement regarding the rumored sorcery of their queen.

Now for the baker, the craftswoman, and mother of eight…

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Queen Elsa stepped into her spacious bedchamber, head held high and gloved hands folded neatly across her midriff. "Thank you for your assistance, Rheba," she said smoothly. "I am sure I can take it from here. You are dismissed."

"Of course, your majesty," replied the servant girl with a quick curtsy. She was used to being dismissed at this time and was anxious for her supper. Elsa heard the girl's hurried feet pitter-patter down the back stairs before she turned the lock over in her bedroom door for the night.

With that, all pretenses vanished. The queen crumpled against the bedchamber floor with a soft moan and looked at her gloved hands. They were shaking. How long could she go on like this?

She tremulously peeled off her gloves, one finger at a time. They fell to the floor.

The temperature in the room experienced a noticeable drop, and she deigned herself to further inspect her hands. Mistake. Ice crackled over them in spiderweb-like patterns, and the tiniest of snow flurries followed in their wake. A ripple of power pulsed through them, and the flurries intensified.

Oh no. It hadn't been this bad in a while… Stress was definitely making it worse. The queen's hands shook harder at the thought. With effort, she stood. Any moment now, she would be unable to restrain it. Any moment, a torrent of wind and cold light and ice and snow would ravage where-so-ever she chose. But where was she to direct it? She must stay away from the window…they mustn't ever find out! A cold tear traveled down the fair queen's face, only to freeze midway.

A cold, tingling sensation—like ice sliding on bare skin-traveled up her spine. She let out a broken sob; all control was lost.

The whiteness washed over her.

It was only for a moment, but when she came to her senses, her bedchamber was awash in white snow, swirling ice effigies, and glistening frost. The enchantment still spilled forth from her fingertips; with every frantic turn, waves of white smothered a different area of the room, and her feet froze the very ground she stood on. This was the worst it had ever been—her condition. She couldn't control it.

She would freeze all of Arendelle-everyone that she loved. She would become the bane of her own people.

A tall, slender silhouette alighted on the windowsill.

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Jack Frost danced and spun in the dark skies of Arendelle, his delight in his snowy craft and the beauty of the lights in the city below emitting from him a long whoop of joy. Arendelle was one of his favorite places to visit during the cold months. The people were—like all countries in the region-isolated and ignorant of the technological world outside. Despite this, they were a happy and well-off people, if not very comfortable with change. This made them especially fun to mess with.

The Guardian of Fun swooped low over the city, breathing frost into the air and beckoning the clouds for snow. Ice formed in the fissures of the cobblestones, and snow collected on eaves. Cold nipped the noses of those few that still walked in the street, but they took no notice of the figure passing overhead. Jack Frost was to them but a gust of cold air. He was used to this; some children, at least, would recognize him. It was too bad they were off to bed.

He contentedly flew about the city, snow and ice quick to follow. Last but not least, the castle. The royals weren't going to get off that easy. If he iced the front walk just right, the morning guards would be tripping all over themselves come sunrise. He snickered at the thought; the kids who took that way for school would lose it. Maybe he could start a snowball fight between them and the sentries… Oh, this was going to be fun!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a beam of cold, blue light blazing out of a high window of the castle above him, followed by a whooshing sound and vagrant flakes of snow. This disappeared shortly, only to be followed by another blast at a different angle. It repeated at random—again and again. He paused in fascination. Those lights looked awfully familiar. What could these royals be hiding?

Without a second thought, Jack flew up towards the high window and settled himself on its edge. His mouth dropped open.

A fine young woman with a crown—obviously a princess or queen—stood inside. Her blue eyes were wild with terror, and from her fingertips burst forth—he could hardly believe it—_ice and snow._ Just like him! However, unlike him, the woman did not seem know how to handle such power. She flailed about in desperation, coating everything in cold whiteness. The room was being steadily destroyed. From the woman's red lips escaped a low wail.

Jack opened the window and was beside her in a flash. She gasped back her cries and stepped away with a frantic shake of her head.

He ignored this, but took note of the tears frozen to her face. He looked at her hands; sparks of white light and ice fluttered from them. They trembled. She was attempting to hold it back. "Stay away!" she cried. "I'll hurt you! _Go!_" A bolt of light and ice erupted from her palm at the exclamation.

"Listen to me! I can help you."

"_Leave me!"_cried the woman. "You can do nothing. Save yourself, _please._" She held up her hands in a protective gesture. Snow and ice flashed from them in two straight beams, grazing both sides of Jack's face. Faster than thought, he stepped forward, enlacing his hands in hers.

Power raced through him—a cold, awesome power. It filled him up like a glass. Coldness crept up his chest, flowed down his arms, his legs. He gasped at the intensity, but it wasn't finished with him. It continued to spread to the back of his head and spilled from his mouth in a white vapor. It proceeded to numb the tip of his nose, the ends of his fingers, his toes. It slid down his back, cold as ice. It settled along his jaw, making his teeth chatter. Slowly, so slowly, it subsided. Its remnants dwindled from him and escaped back into the hands he was holding. He opened his eyes.

No one had made Jack Frost feel that cold in a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I'm so happy with the reactions I've gotten so far. It's been fantastic. Though I would be lying if I said upcoming chapters will be posted as quickly as this one, you can bet I will try. Enjoy, readers. Leave a review, and don't be afraid to be honest. I don't bite. - Peace, BlueSuedeShoes23**

The young man stared into Elsa, and Elsa stared into him.

"Eh-hem," coughed Elsa, with a pointed nod at her hands. He started.

"Oh! Sorry." He unlaced his fingers from hers.

"I…am thankful for your help. I would have done much more damage if you hadn't…did what you did," said the queen.

"Hey, no problem. What are guardians for." He bent down and snatched a wooden staff off the iced floor, then proceeded to lean on it.

"Pardon me. A guardian?" The young man chuckled, showing off teeth as white as his hair.

"We're uh…kind of like guards. For children." The queen huffed at this.

"I am no child."

"Well, yeah. You're certainly out of my jurisdiction, princess," he replied, eyes rolling. Such insolence! She stepped toward him, resisting the urge to stomp her foot in agitation.

"_Neither_ am I a princess. I am newly crowned _Queen_ Elsa of Arendelle, and I will be respected. I ask you, Sir. What are you doing in my private quarters?" The slender young man also chose to take a step forward. He leaned in close on his staff.

"Saving your royal hiney, _highness_," he whispered, his breath cold against her face. Elsa was suddenly thankful that she hadn't the ability to blush anymore. She forced herself not to flinch away from him, but stared right back into those blue eyes. Who _was_ he? His garb was strange; his hair was white as snow. And he was cold. As cold as her. She searched his gaze. His expression was stern, but not unforgiving. She _was_ being a bit ridiculous. He had saved her from herself, after all.

"…forgive me," she said, turning away from him. "I am not myself. These powers…I do not understand them. They are my curse." To her surprise, he visibly reeled at this.

"Y-you're kidding! Look, I know you're having a hard time figuring it all out—but a curse!" Elsa shook her head at him in bewilderment.

"But what else could it be but a curse? I damage everything I touch. I haven't had a good conversation with my little sister in _years—_I-I hurt her, long ago…What is your name?" He blinked at the sudden turn in conversation and without another pause answered,

"Jack. Jack Frost."

"From the fairy tale?"

"The very same," Jack said, swoop-nodding his head in agreement.

"That's impossible. But then again…," she hesitated, "so am I. Can you…?"

"Prove it? Certainly." A heavy snow began to fall in the room, and the top of Elsa's head and shoulders fast grew white with small mounds of it. However, it seemed that the snow was affecting only herself. Jack hadn't a single snowflake on him. Neither did any of the newly iced interior of her bedchamber.

"Alright. I believe you. You can stop now." Jack chuckled. The snow ceased. She sneezed, surprising herself.

"Ah," said Jack, walking over to her, "the little snow queen can still catch a cold. Who knew." He grasped her upper arm and proceeded to wiped the snow off her shoulders and head good-naturedly. Elsa was too taken aback by his informality to react. Finishing this, he extended his hand towards her face and hurriedly brushed away the frozen tears that stubbornly clung there with his thumb. They tinkled away in small fragments. "There we go. All good. Like it never happened." He smiled and leaned back on his staff.

She cleared her throat. "E-excuse me."

"What?"

"Nothing. Um, Jack. How do you have…such control?"

"Well uh, I've had a lot of practice. Don't worry. You'll get the hang of it." Elsa could hardly believe her ears. This control could be learned? It was her turn to reel.

"You-you have to teach me, Jack!" She reached out towards him, arms trembling. Blue sparks flashed at her fingertips. "P-please. I-I've tried. I've tried. I can't control it. You must teach me. Please. "

"Whoa there, sparky. No need to beg. I'll help you if I can." For the first time in a long while, Elsa smiled wide.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much." She covered her face in her hands, but she did not weep. Gathering herself, she uncovered her face. "Well then, Jack Frost," she sniffed. "When shall we begin?"

"As soon as I figure out one thing."

"And what is that?" she replied with a light laugh. Jack tilted his head in consideration.

"Your majesty…How can you see me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I'm no master of dialogue, but writing Elsa and Jack's was so much fun this chapter. What worked? What didn't? Leave a review! They're like a writer's dog biscuits. –-BlueSuedeShoes23**

Elsa pursed her lips. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Stop playing games." Jack winced.

"Ouch, that stings. But I'm not playing games. Though _nothing is wrong with games," _he gave her a meaningful look, but she wasn't having it.

"Well then. Say what you mean. I can't read minds."

"Tch. Fine. I was just going to say that you can _see_ me. Most people, especially people your age," he jabbed her with his crook, "_can't_. They have to believe in me."

"Believe in you."

"Yes, that's what I said—"

"But that is completely ludicrous." A pause.

"Ludicrous?"

"It means ridiculous, or crazy—"

"_I know what it means." _He looked up at the ceiling, praying for patience, and let out a deep breath. "Listen, queeny, I may not look it, but I've been around the block a few times." He twirled his finger in the air, which was followed by small bits of snow. "Now, what do you mean by ludicrous—and no definitions!" To Jack's relief, she nodded slowly and agreeably at this admission and spoke with a tad more respect.

"Well, _Mr_. Frost, I simply cannot understand what belief and being able to see you have in common. They are two entirely separate things, and in the grand scheme of—of your work-seem rather counterproductive—" Jack groaned.

"You're one of _those_ people, aren't you," he said, pulling at his face.

"One of what people? I don't—"

"You're a Type A. Total type A personality." He raised his gaze to the sky for a second time. "_What have I gotten myself into_?"

"I take offence to that. But what is a type A—"

"Don't you worry about it. That particular condition, unfortunately, cannot be cured." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a dramatic and comforting gesture. "I'm sorry." She rolled her eyes. "But your _ice_ powers-that I should be able to help you with." He snapped his fingers, and a single large, iridescent snowflake idled above his thumb. Elsa gasped, gazing at it in wonder, and Jack smirked with pride. He looked into it as well; it wasn't often that he took the time to admire his work so closely. There were so many colors reflecting off of it…

It wasn't until their cheeks brushed that Jack realized he was still holding Elsa's shoulders. She seemed startled out of her reverie too, and they quickly disentangled with many "sorries" and "my bads". The snowflake fell to become one with the snow-covered floor.

"Erm, well then, Mr. Frost, what is the plan? I must ask that we set a rather strict schedule for my tutoring. I have many responsibilities that must be attended to."

"Oh no. It's started. Listen, I don't do schedules. They don't seem to fit into my own schedule that I like to call _fun." _Elsa fidgeted in exasperation.

"_Please_ Mr. Frost. I truly need your help, but I have people who need me." She looked up at him with big, imploring eyes. "Surely you know the feeling?" Despite himself, Jack quailed.

"F-fine," he stammered, tearing away from her stare. "But only until you gain a decent amount of control, and again I can't promise anything—" Elsa gave a very un-Elsa-like laugh that rang about the icy room.

"Thank you, Mr. Frost! Thank you. I have hope again. Soon, I might actually be able to hug my sister…" Jack smiled, not unkindly. He was beginning to understand her desperation now; he once had a sister.

"So…when are you planning on starting this 'tutoring'?" said Jack.

"Oh, as soon as possible. I was thinking not tomorrow, but the next day after my meeting with the head of the butcher's guild—"

"What are you doing now?"

"Well, after we're finished here, of course, I must find a way to clean out all of this snow and ice without the aid of my servants—perhaps you would be willing to help? Then off to bed; I have an early start tomorrow morning, and it's already-" Faster than a worn snow boot slipping on ice, Jack had enveloped Elsa's waist in his arms and dashed headlong through the open window and into the starry night.

To the oblivious guards below, the queen of Arendelle's startled screams were not but a whistle upon the air.

"Lesson one!" cried Jack. "Flight!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey all! I wanted to say thank you for all of your support so far. You're incredible. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I was working on it when I was supposed to be doing other things. Big time procrastinator, that's me. If you like/ dislike something in a chapter, let me know! I'm always looking to improve my writing, and I need randos like you to tell me how it is. Enjoy! -BlueSuedeShoes23**

Higher and higher the pair rose into the twinkling night sky, the small kingdom below diminishing into small specks of light, and the wind rushing past them with a loud but clear sound. Jack Frost smiled into it, clasping Elsa, queen of Arendelle, to his side.

"JACK. JACK. PUT ME DOWN. _PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW_."

"What, no 'Mr. Frost'?"

"NO. PUT ME DOWN."

"Well," chuckled Jack, "if you insist," and just like that, he let her go.

Down, down, down the queen fell, a dead weight in the sky. Air whooshed past her like a solid thing.

Elsa released a blood-curdling scream, but the wind snatched it out of her mouth.

If that wasn't unfair. She, hurdling towards certain death through no real fault of her own, robbed of even properly expressing her despair. She was not to be heard. For seconds that felt like hours, she raged over this, cursing the sticky-fingered wind. It was definitely in cahoots with Frost.

The lights below her grew bigger, formed into blocks, into buildings, into neighborhoods; she clenched her teeth, prepared for impact, made peace with her—

Jack was there, his pale face a foot from hers and smiling his white-toothed grin. He was facing her, his back to the growing city below.

Lovely. She was sure he would make an excellent cushion for the fall.

As if he had read her mind, he laughed, white hair whipping about his face from the velocity of their descent. Unlike her scream, it was not stolen by the wind, but instead was _complemented _by it, if that were possible. He laughed again, and though even through her terror it was a charming noise, she couldn't help but notice the budding cityscape below them. She braced herself. Even if she had more control over them, her powers couldn't help her here. She could not fly.

Then Jack did something unexpected.

Suddenly, her body pressed lightly into his, as if she were a sinking feather and Jack a hand chasing her descent. Her brow furrowed. What was he doing? She looked at him, but couldn't read his expression, as his face was turned to the side and studying the ground below.

He was slowing himself down.

But why? If he were saving her, wouldn't he simply scoop her up out of harm's way? His face turned back towards hers, but now his expression was serious, more concentrated.

Gentle, cold fingertips brushed against her sides. She looked at him, incredulous, but he gave her a soft shake of the head.

Tenderly but firmly, he ushered her in close to him. For the second time that day, his face grazed hers. Cold breath whispered in her ear, "_Wait for it_." He pulled away, looked at her, pursed his lips—

And blew. He blew, right into her face a cool, frosted wind. Immediately, she felt lighter, air-like. His fingertips gently pushed her from him, and with a slight gasp, she soared high and away, floating on the airstream he was creating.

At first, she didn't know what to think. She waited, hovering in the sky, arms outstretched, taking in the fact that she wasn't falling, wasn't preparing for impact, wasn't dying, but _flying_. The lights in her kingdom spread out before her like a field of fireflies. If she moved, would the spell break? But where was he?

She chanced a peep down.

About 20 meters away was Jack, eyes smiling up at her and lips pursed, still blowing his magic in her direction. He smirked, and instantly she felt gravity take hold of her again. To her horror, she began to fall, gradually now, catching speed—but once more Jack was at her side, slowing down, holding her lightly against him. He breathed the wind once more, softer than before. This time round, when he pushed her up and away, she soared only a few meters before coming back down to him again. This repeated: up, then down, push, repeat.

All the while, Jack's eyes smiled up at her, the lights of the now far-off city winking at his back. For the life of her she couldn't understand why he was doing this, but she didn't mind. It was actually kind of _fun—_

"Having fun?" queried Jack, face beaming. Her face went blank in response, and she shrugged as he steadied her mid-air.

"As much fun as can be had at this altitude," she replied stone-faced, kicking at her skirts indignantly. There was not a chance she was letting him know she was enjoying herself after the stunt he just pulled. Jack shook his head with a laugh and twirled them higher into the night sky.

"Which is a lot," he stated, stopping to loop his staff expertly between the fingers of one hand. She gave him a thin smile. Well, fine.

"Which is a lot," she consented. "Now take me home."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: 100 follows, 50 favorites, and 30 reviews?! I'm ecstatic. Really though-thank you all! It is so fun writing for you. If you are so inclined, remember to leave a review. Detailed responses of what you like/dislike are helpful in planning future chapters. :) -BlueSuedeShoes23 **

Jack set Elsa feet-first on her ice-covered floor. After gaining some comfortable distance for conversation, she whirled toward him.

"Mr. Frost," she said, "while that little exploit was entertaining, it was wholly uncalled for. I am a lady and also a queen. Not a rag doll to be taken wherever you will. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, highness," replied Jack, looking not at her, but through the window they came through. He did not seem to be taking this reproof to heart.

"I am not sure you are listening, Mr. Frost. I could have died." That got his attention. He considered her and scoffed.

"Please, I had everything under control. I knew you wouldn't be able to fly. Not right away." Elsa frowned.

"Right away?" She crossed her arms, her expression sour. "How about not at all."

"Don't count on it, with powers like ours. A little more practice—that's all you need. Wind basically does all the work for ya anyhow…" his voice trailed off, and he pivoted toward the window again, gazing at something she could not see.

"We're _not_ finished here, Mr. Frost. Frankly, I am not sure how that exercise would have been at all beneficial to my 'learning to fly', which, by my reaction to your _kidnapping_—which it _was_-you must have realized _I cannot do_." Jack looked at her, blue eyes flashing. With taciturn deliberateness, he replied,

"Your majesty. Are you questioning my teaching methods? Because if you are, I would assume you had everything under control—that you weren't currently _freezing your own rug solid."_

Elsa started and glanced at the expensive carpet both she and Jack stood on. It…it couldn't have frozen _solid_, could it? She gave it a smart tap with her foot. It split in two beneath her unceremoniously.

The queen swallowed and regretfully peered up at him. Unnoticed by her, Jack had sauntered his way to her side of the cracked carpet and now stood looking down at her, long arms crossed, crook resting in his elbow. She found herself wishing she had slipped on her higher heels that day; this impossible young man was a good head taller than her, and he was using his height for all it was worth.

She collected herself and stared up into his smug face. "This. You...didn't do this." He raised his eyebrows, and she sighed. "Right. Of course you didn't. My apologies…I do want your help—I need your help. Obviously," she gestured at the floor, at the whiteness of the room about them, "I'm desperate. But you have to understand-as queen, I must question everything while still utilizing my time in the most efficient way possible." She took step back. "Do you—do you understand?" To her relief, his expression softened to some extent.

"Yes, I do. But _you_ got to understand that as Guardian of Fun, schedules and time-management aren't my number one priority." He looked around, unsure of what he was going to say next. "...I… don't just want you to learn. I want you to enjoy yourself. It's how I do things." He shrugged, looking away from her. Elsa allowed a small smile to play upon her lips.

"Well then, Mr. Frost. I suggest a compromise." He turned his head.

"Yeah?"

"Like we had previously agreed, we will set a schedule every week and meet at appointed times daily. But for your satisfaction…," she exhaled, "I will not openly question your lessons or their content. I will trust you, because I have no other choice. Simply put: I will put my faith in you, Jack Frost." A brief moment of silence commenced between them.

"You'll believe in me," said Jack, laughing blithely. She nodded.

"Now, regarding the method of payment…?" He waved a hand dismissively.

"Nothing, thanks. I'm just doin my job." A small scowl wrinkled his mouth. "Though not in the way I usually go about it."

"But I insist—"

"Your majesty-no offense, but you have nothing to offer me." Quite taken aback, Elsa cleared her throat, embarrassed.

"Ah, though Arendelle might not be the wealthiest kingdom in the area, neither are we the most impoverished. I can pay you, and truly, I would feel more comfortable—"

"Money is nothing to me. People can't _see_ me, remember?" _Oh_.

"There must be something—"

"Fine, I'll think about it. Later. But I gotta jet. Northern Montreal could really use a snow day." He made for the window, bare feet resting on its ledge.

"But when shall we-?"

"Like you said earlier: not tomorrow, but the next day. It's been a pleasure, queeny." After giving a terse salute, he was gone, airborne on a swift and convenient wind. Elsa, frantic, dashed up to the windowsill.

"Yes, but what TIME?!" She searched the sky in earnest, but distant laughter was her only response.

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Jack sat at the top of a tall evergreen, admiring his handiwork over Montreal. Not satisfied with merely with its northern portion, he had decided to bout the _entire_ metropolis with so much ice and snow weathermen were calling it "the worst blizzard Montreal has seen in 30 years". He smiled to himself.

He still had it.

The snow swirled about him in a torrent of gale and cold: a comfortable spout of weather for Jack. He couldn't remember the last time he felt cold as others feel cold, despite regaining his lost memories. To him, the cold was both make-a-snow-angel easy and go-and-take-on-the-world invigorating. It was crisp. It was honest. He smiled into the glacial gusts like anybody else would smile into ocean breezes.

A slim, red-lipped figure made its way into his mind. Well, maybe not _everybody_.

Elsa. For reasons Jack did not understand, being with her was as invigorating as the cold was. He remembered his first contact with her: his hands enfolding hers and the icy rush that poured throughout him in that instant. He rubbed his neck self-consciously at the memory.

Then there was that flight_. _ _All in good fun_, he had reasoned. After all, the regal queen of Arendelle wasn't going to enjoy the same things that kids do. She was more sophisticated than that. And as a guardian, it was his job to spread the good times—and that stickler of a queen could definitely use some good times. It was a sort of a pre-lesson, too—there was no way the wind would keep rejecting her…

Jack's thoughts circled like this for a while as he tried to make sense of his own actions. Though he was no fan of strict agendas, he had to admit to himself that he was looking forward to seeing the little snow queen again. It was refreshing, talking to someone so—

A muffled yelp from below slipped its way through a brief halt in the howling storm around him. Jack scowled and rolled his eyes, forcing himself to glide down to the source of the noise under the cover of the conifer.

Once there, he did not willingly acknowledge it, but rather deemed it fit to ice-over the yelper with another lazy wave of his staff.

For there, frozen to a tree under layers and layers of ice, was darkness personified: Pitch Black, but a mere husk of what he was.

"Now Pitch," said Jack, pointing his crook in his direction with casual menace. "When are you gonna tell me what you were doing outside that window?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: The next chapter is here! Wa-hoo! I hope you're as excited as I am. Remember to review-your last volley were especially helpful and encouraging. YOU keep it up, you fantastic readers, you. :'D Meanwhile, the plot thickens... -BlueSuedeShoes23**

The queen surveyed her newly 'whitewashed' bedroom wearing a slight pout. _Doesn't he know I can only make messes, not clean them?_ Her grimace deepened before a resigned, defeated sigh escaped her lips. Grabbing a handful of snow, she chucked it out the open window, half-heartedly pretending she was hurling a snowball after Frost.

Handful upon handful of the white stuff flew into the night in a burst of powder. It would be some labor more before all of it was gone, and sleep was so difficult to come by these days. She yawned, stooping low to collect another portion. Buried beneath it lay her abandoned gloves.

It occurred to her that most people would need them to do what she was doing now. She stopped to look at the snow she held in her hand. It was cold…but not uncomfortably so. In fact, she couldn't imagine _cold_ being an uncomfortable feeling at all. It was so…crisp. True. Revitalizing. It almost saddened her to think that others experienced it solely in discomfort.

All except one other.

Jack Frost. Who _was_ he? In her youth, she had believed in the canon fairy tales: Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy. But Jack Frost? Not even her sister Anna, whom as a younger teen had a deep and abiding faith in the trio, had believed in Jack Frost. He was just an old expression people scarcely gave any thought to, if at all.

Yet here he had been, in this very room, and he had agreed to teach her control over her abilities.

…Would he return? Elsa was old and wise enough to know that not everybody came back when they said they would. Her father's stern, sympathetic face came to mind. _Conceal, don't feel. _The mantra of her life-the last words he'd said to her as he stepped with her mother aboard that doomed ship.

She threw this certain handful harsher than former ones, angry at herself for letting her thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. A familiar, icy sensation travel up her spine, but upon the downward thrust of her throwing arm, her eyes locked onto a strange pattern on the window ledge: toe-prints. She snickered. _He's certainly something, isn't he? _ She let out a pent-in breath, and the icy sensation faded into nothing.

Surely a free-spirit like him wouldn't think twice about abandoning her for anything whatsoever amusing. In spite of this understanding, she smiled, thinking of their impromptu 'flight'. Turning to the window again, she looked out into the cold night, where a soft snow was steadily falling.

Before he whisked himself away, he'd said another place needed snow—but what else does Jack Frost do?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Currently, Jack was throwing a snowball into the boogeyman's face. The immobile gray man spluttered and coughed. "Now Jack," he said, blinking slowly. "Is that _really_ necessary?" The winter spirit rubbed his chin musingly.

"Why, haven't a clue, Pitch. You know me though—always chasing good times!" An additional snowball made impact.

"Arg! _Stop that_!" His dark brow twitched, and he took a deep, mollifying breath. "_Jack_. _Come_ now," he purred, "I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for being outside that window."

"Oh, for truly Mr. Pitch, sir?" Jack blinked prettily. _Wham_! Pitch set his jaw.

"_Jack Frost!_" His voice was dark, commanding. Jack paused, allowing an incomplete snowball to tumble from his hands. "It is obvious that I am not what I once was. _Look_ at me._"_ Jack obeyed. Indeed, the Nightmare King's face was sallower than before, and his once proud shoulders now slumped. Stray bits of black sand leaked from him at his subtle movements. Jack cleared his throat, thrust his crook forward.

"Then explain. And_ no lies._" Pitch leaned his head back on the tree, relaxing.

"I was by the window because I was attracted to her fear. No more, no less."

"You were _what_—"

"I'm the _boogeyman_. What do you expect?" He rolled his eyes. For his part, Jack gaped like a fish. He was _not_ expecting such blatant honesty from this slayer of sweet childhood dreams.

"B-but you were just—"

"I was just _what_, Jack? Doing the thing I do best? What I was _created_ for? You can cease that gawking this instant. It's not becoming." Jack reeled, but the small quip brought him back to his senses. He coughed dismissively.

"You know what's not 'becoming'?" he said, fingers mimicking quotation marks. "Spying on a girl like some old—" Pitch held up a hand—and only a hand, the rest of his arm being trapped under layers of sleet.

"No, stop. Stop right there. I was not _spying," _he spat out the word with a sneer, "I was only _just_ about to enter and drink in that delicious fear when you came along and ruined everything. The spying you speak of was merely curiosity—what would the 'Guardian of Fun' do next? She could see you. Must've been quite the little thrill, judging by that _adorable_ little flight you took—" Jack's face became cold and white as ice—his own variety of a hot, scarlet blush. He coughed.

"Ah, um. I was teaching her how to fly." The boogeyman attempted an indifferent shrug.

"Of course you were. Whatever that was, you finally went back through the window, and I was going to leave, when you _saw _me. In my prime, I would have so _easily_ slunk into shadow, but as I am now…I knew I couldn't escape you nor fight you. So I waited for your little conversation to end so you could whisk me off to Moon-knows-where I am. Really, where are we?"

"Montreal."

"Ah, Montreal. Not at all close to Arendelle—but Arendelle isn't close to anywhere, is it? Such a protected, innocent kingdom... Just makes me want to _smother it_." His gray face softened at the thought. Jack coughed again. The Nightmare King had…changed…since he saw him last.

"You're not _smothering_ anywhere. And you're not spying on the queen anymore, either. I'll be around, in any case."

"Tch. You ruin everything, don't you? A pity. Her particular sort of fear is the best—the fear of hurting people. Never quite understood it myself, but boy, does it give you a _rush_—"

"Ew, no, stop. Stop. I don't even want to know." Jack rubbed at his temple. "…I need to take you to the others. They'll decide what to do with you." Pitch exhaled.

"You _would_ say that, Jack. Always relying on others to do the dirty work for you—haven't changed at all, it seems. I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline the invitation, though it pains me to do so." Jack scowled.

"This isn't an invitation. You're going." The boogeyman shook his head.

"No, no—you misunderstand me. It's _literally_ painful. Ever since the Nightmares turned on me, Black Sand has been difficult to come by and even more difficult to use—just awful. Ah, but what can I do? Pain is temporary." With that, the Nightmare King suddenly began to waste away fast into the Black Sand he spoke of, his gray face contorting in a grimace.

"Hey-stop that!" shouted Jack. But the boogeyman had vanished, his Sands far gone on the harsh wintry gales of the blizzard.

Jack stood there, dumbfounded. Pitch Black was alive. Weakened, but alive. And he had let him escape.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Following a week-long hiatus, you wouldn't expect the next chapter to be posted the next day...would you? Nah, I just had time to kill today, so here you are. :) Enjoy, and leave a review (esp. concrit. Love a good concrit.) It's helpful to know what readers like/ dislike about chapters. Though I do have a plan for where this tale is going, so don't fret. Peace -BlueSuedeShoes23**

After a solid day of debating the options, Jack had made his decision. He smoothed open the heavy wooden door and peeked inside. There North sat on a stool amongst a collection of strange but wonderful toys, knickknacks, and books, his large girth making the seat seem smaller than it actually was. The big man's back was turned from the doorway, intent on his tinkering with some odd, delicate play-thing. Jack slipped inside, shutting the door soundlessly behind him, and made his way across the room, bells tinkling as a couple small elves noticed his approach.

"Hey there, big guy," said Jack casually. North shot out of his seat with a booming yelp, crushing the small tinker in his great hands. He turned fast, blue eyes growing wide.

"Jack Frost!" he bellowed. "For ages I haven't seen you!" His crumpled toy and shock forgotten, he enveloped the lean winter spirit in a crushing bear-hug, lifting him well off the floor. Jack gasped.

"Ugh, nice to see you too, big guy," he replied, eyes squeezing shut. "Ow, _ow_. Oi, let me go, would ya?" North consented, leaving Jack bent over and heaving for breath.

"So," said North. "What brings Guardian of Fun to the Pole? It is not often we see each other. Ah! You must want in-depth tour. Christmas approaches. I could not _possibly_." He gave a knowing wink. "But for you, Jack, I make exception. Pointy heads! Make us a cookie platter." The two small elves snapped to attention and scrambled frantically upon hearing the order, running into each other one, two, three times in their panic. Jack shook his head, both at them and at North.

"Sorry, North. Not today. It's serious. I need you to initiate the signal—everyone needs to be here." The jolly grin disappeared from his bearded face.

"Is it…Pitch?" His fingers fiddled with his waistband nervously.

Jack nodded. North responded with an abrupt nod himself and shepherded Jack out of his private room and into the hustle and bustle of the work floor.

"I was afraid of this," said the large man as he pushed and weaved his way through the conglomerate of busy yetis and elves. "Pitch will not be done away with so easily." The pair reached the center of the workshop—the Globe of Belief. There, North grasped a handle, pulled it up, then shoved it back down, releasing the Northern Lights signal in the four cardinal directions.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Guardians to make an appearance. Tooth and Bunnymund—the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny, respectively—arrived simultaneously, Tooth zipping to a stop in front of the Globe followed by a selection of her tiny fairies and Bunnymund from a magically sprouting rabbit hole. They spoke at once, "What's the problem?" said Toothiana, wings buzzing.

"Ay mate. What's goin on?" said Bunnymund, rabbit hole disappearing behind him. A miniature tornado of golden sand appeared suddenly to his left, collapsed in on itself. The Sandman had arrived, golden question mark already hovering above his head. Jack stepped into view from behind North.

"Jack!" they exclaimed, surprise etched on their faces. The Sandman smiled with enthusiasm.

"Uh, it's been awhile, Jack," said Tooth, cheeks turning a mild pink. Her fairies made audible sighs about her.

"So you finally decided to be sociable," quipped Bunnymund. Jack allowed himself a grin.

"Not exactly. But listen, this is serious." The four Guardians looked to him; he had their attention. No beating about the bush here. "Pitch…he's alive." With that, chaos erupted in the workshop. Yetis, elves, and small fairies ran, jingled, and fluttered from place to place in alarm. The Guardians themselves stood disbelieving as North and Tooth attempted to hush their assistants.

"B-but he was taken, mate! We saw it—by his own Nightmares." Sandy nodded at this, his own doubt evident in his expression.

"Look, I know. I saw it too. But he's here. I even captured him yesterday…b-but he escaped." Jack bowed his head in shame.

"H-he _what!"_ exclaimed Bunnymund. "How could you let him—!" A disapproving look from the Tooth Fairy cut him off. He cleared his throat. "Ah, I mean. I know you did your best, mate."

"Of course you did, Jack," soothed Tooth. "But tell us. What happened?" Jack's face grew cold.

"Uh, it's kind of a long story, but um. Yeah. All you need to know is that Pitch is alive. He's a lot weaker, but still. We should be ready." Tooth regarded him skeptically.

"But Jack. We need details—" Jack panicked.

"We don't have _time_ for details," he countered. "I've wasted enough as it is. The important thing is to be prepared. Pitch is weak, but who knows for how long?"

"The Guardian of Fun is correct," stated North, stepping forward. "Details come later. Now, we make ready. Bunny—disband your watcher eggs in your tunnels. Tooth—put your fairies on high alert. And Sandy—send out your curious golden sands. For myself, I will station yetis throughout the world. We must make sure Pitch Black _cannot_ come back." Jack smiled up towards him, thankful. Leave it to Santa to get everybody on the right track.

"And what do we do if we find him?" said Tooth, allowing her curiosity over the particulars of Jack's story abate for the moment.

"We bring him here, to the base," answered Bunnymund. "Then we'll decide…what to do with him."

"Right," agreed North. "Now go!" The four obediently dispersed—Bunny into a new rabbit hole, Tooth and Sandy flying through a skylight above, and North into the crowd of capable yetis and equally incapable elves. Jack could hear his loud voice waning as he vanished further into the throng, "Shoo now, pointy heads. Yetis! Phil, Carol. I want you east, near Japan—" He was gone.

Jack stood there, alone but for the stray elves and yetis nearby the Globe. Had he been forgotten? No, North probably figured he'd do things his own way. Good. He liked it like that.

He stopped to contemplate the Globe before him. Huh. _Where would Arendelle be? _ Despite his visits there, he couldn't confidently pick it out on the map. Everything was so different from 1000 feet up. Curious and satisfied that everything was being taken care of Pitch-wise, he perused the massive ball.

After about ten minutes, he found it—a small cluster of islands in the Northern Pacific. Corona, Berk, DunBroch, Weselton…there! Arendelle, a tiny area inhabiting one of the bigger islands of the trifling band…a perfect place for Pitch Black to hide.

Even as this thought occurred to him, Jack Frost was gone, the latch of the skylight above creaking in protest.

_The queen isn't safe._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Chapter _eight_! I can't believe it. Thank you for reading my story (hopefully you're enjoying the ride). Your interest and support mean a lot, and ****I think you'll like the direction this tale is headed... It's been a blast to write so far. ** -BlueSuedeShoes23

Elsa collapsed on her bed with a groan. Already it had been a long day.

After spending the better part of the night cleaning her own frosty mess up, she awoke at the first fringes of dawn to meet with the head of the butchers' guild as planned.

What was supposed to be a relatively painless meeting turned into a session of dispute and disappointment, as the butchers' chairman requested _more _salt than was previously given—_three more carriages full._ With queenly firmness, she refused him, stating that the remainder of Arendelle's salt was to be used otherwise and that she had given the guild plenty to last. The fat man was quick to backlash. "Your parents, God rest their souls, would give us thrice as much salt as you have done, my most _reasonable_ queen."

Elsa's tempered flared; how dare he bring her parents into this? She knew for a fact that the guild obtained less than _two_ carriages of yearly salt during her mother and father's rule. Though no change of expression crossed over her face, the room's temperature dropped perceptibly. The chairman shivered. "Y-your majesty. Did you feel that?"

"Yes, perhaps Rheba left a window open while cleaning again." She closed her eyes and inhaled. _Control it...control it. "_My most _untruthful_ chairman," she said, stare needle-like, "you and I _know_ what you just claimed was a lie. Take leave immediately before I am tempted to enact my right to relieve you of your position. Don't say another word. _Go_." The chairman's red lips drew into a hard line. Giving a curt bow, he turned sharply and exited the grand hall in a huff, leaving the queen alone where she sat. She waited. The front gate slammed, her breath puttered out in a gasp, and the throne froze over solid.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Ugh_. Elsa lay sprawled out on her bed, thoroughly done with the day. She had cancelled all but _one_ of her upcoming appointments—maybe the most important one of her life. If her prayers were answered, Jack's lesson with her tomorrow would teach her enough control to carry on with next week's meetings. As of now, that was an impossibility; her restraint over her abilities was minimal at best. The people would begin to question her. Icicles crackled along her bedframe at the thought, and she gave a heartfelt sigh. "They're definitely getting worse..."

"Don't you mean _better_?" corrected an obscure voice from the other side of the room. The queen jumped to her feet.

"W-Who's there!"

"Boo." A tall man stepped from behind a curtain. Funny, that curtain was a sheer material; she hadn't noticed him.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my room? Speak quickly. I _will_ call the guard."

"All these questions and demands," said the gray man, crossing his arms. "You _are_ a queen, aren't you? Yet so young…" He touched his face. "Mother and Father not around?" A light snow began to fall from the ceiling, but the young queen didn't respond. "Ah. That answers my question." He opened a slim hand, allowing snowflakes to gather in it. "Interesting…so you _can_ see me." Elsa's elegant brows furrowed.

"_Answer_ me," she commanded. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"All in good time, your majesty, all in good time… Now—"

"G-Guard—!" she tested. The man raised his eyes to the ceiling.

"Oh, _shut it_. That's not going to scare me off. You dismissed your guards to the gates long ago. Not your best kept secret…but then, I _know_ your best kept secret." He crushed the snow in his hand and gave her a waning smile. Elsa bit the inside of her cheek, drew herself up.

"What do you want?"

"Ooo, such hostility. I like it. Well, I'm not going to waste your time by flogging a dead horse—" A dark whinny of protest sounded in the distance. He rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Just my ride. But what do I want? Simple: I want _you_." Elsa made a face of disgust. "Oh, stop. You're the same as Frost. I mean I want your _powers."_

"M-my powers? But they're—"

"—yours? A _part_ of you? Hmm, I seem to remember something…what did you call them—a _curse_?" He kicked at her carpet, revealing a long, jagged tear down its middle. She recoiled.

"Hold on, just how long have you been _spying_—"

"_Again_ with the spying. Honestly. You and Frost are more alike than you know. It's called _curiosity_, your _majesty_, and if I do say so myself—I believe it's paid off."

"Well, you're wrong. Even if I could give you my powers, I wouldn't." The snowfall in the room grew heavier.

"See—that's what I'm talking about. You can hardly control them. _You're cursed_." He opened his arms wide. "Let me _liberate_ you." Elsa frowned.

"You can't _liberate_ me. It's ludicrous to speak of, and who are you to ask—"

"Tch. I see I will have to convince you." With a raise of his hand, a dark torrent of black, sand-like particles escaped from his open palms. They descended upon her, swirling around and around, becoming denser, closing in, scrapping at her face. Elsa's fear mounted, ice traveled up her spine, whiteness crept into her field of vision, threatening to consume her—then he stopped. The fine particles retreated back into his palms, save a stubborn dusting that lingered in the air about her.

Elsa stepped back, shaken, and licked her lips nervously. She tasted something on the air. What was it? "Now that you see that I am not just _anyone_," his expression darkened, "will you hear what I have to say?" She nodded dumbly in reply. "Very well." He leaned a shoulder against a nearby pillar, and Elsa slumped on the edge of her bed.

"Regardless of your protests, I believe there is way for your powers to be transferred unto myself. The idea stemmed from observing you and Frost last night. You had lost control, and unthinkingly he grabbed your hands—or was it instinct? For instead of killing him, rather he _absorbed_ your cold energy into himself, and neither of you were worse for the wear—am I right, your majesty?"

"I-I felt a bit drained, but no."

"_Exactly_. Drained is the perfect word to describe it. You felt drained because you _were—_you lost some of your powers last night. An insignificant portion, but still." His voice fell to a whisper, and he leaned in closer. "Now…imagine that you had _more_ control—that you were able to expel _all_ of your power through him."

"I-I would be powerless…and exhausted." He nodded, grinning.

"Yes. And completely _normal_." He paused, letting it sink in. Elsa's mind whirled. "Conversely, I highly suspect Frost would experience a tremendous surge in his own powers….or that someone without wintry influence would simply gain them. Hear me out, your majesty. You've seen that I have my own kind of abilities, and I assure you that I am in _complete_ control over them. If you give me your powers, I would easily master them. I would harm no one; they would be for my pleasure alone. No longer would you live in the fear of hurting others—your sister, I imagine, misses you terribly."

Elsa could scarcely process what was being said to her. "B-but. I don't have that kind of control—"

"Ah, but that's where Frost comes in. You have a sort of lesson plan with him, no? Continue it. Get to the point where you think you can control them enough for the transfer—then come to me and be relieved. No harm done. He's such a nonconformist—I doubt he would be able to stick to a tutoring regimen for long anyhow." Elsa shook her head, struggling to process the information. She…she could be _cured_.

"I…I don't know—"

"_Think_ about it. Whatever you decide, your meeting with Frost tomorrow needs to happen. I'll stop by another time for your reply." He made his way to the curtain he had hidden behind earlier. "Best not tell him of this—he won't teach you if he's aware you're only learning to rid yourself of the curse—if that _is_ what you're doing. He's an insufferably prideful spirit." The gray man slipped behind the hanging, and there was quiet. Rising from her bed, Elsa walked over to it, peeking around. As suspected, no one was there. A new wave of coldness swept over the room, and she clutched at her heart.

Was this opportunity knocking…or something more sinister?


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: My Christmas present to you, thirty minutes before midnight. Thank you for being such supportive readers...your reviews make me so happy and encourage me to improve. Goodness. In other news...SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION TIME. Check out my original story, The King's Party, on FictionPress (link in profile). It's Alice in Wonderland inspired, but with a different sort of flavor. Enjoy the chapter! -BlueSuedeShoes23 **

Elsa relaxed on the pew under her window, skirted legs up and hands cupped neatly on her knees. Following her encounter with the Gray Man, as she so creatively dubbed him, little had changed. That night, she slept soundly, and she awoke at the usual early hour that morning. Her breakfast was waiting for her outside the door, and she took her time eating it as she leafed her way through that morning's herald. She didn't mind being alone in her room for long periods as she used to; it was now an area all too familiar and comfortable. Nonetheless, something was troubling her.

Her bedchamber was _covered_ in snow, and she didn't remember putting it there.

This left two options: either Jack Frost had given her a surprise last night, or she had used her powers while sleeping, and for some reason, Elsa was leaning toward the latter. The Gray Man's words must have cut deeper than she'd thought.

The queen took a profound breath and hugged her knees in closer. This was certainly a new development, and one she didn't like in the least. _It's difficult enough to control when I'm _awake_. _Now she had to worry about monitoring herself when _unconscious_? Another sigh escaped her, and she glanced toward the reassuring, natural whiteness of the winter outside. Better to think of other things before it started snowing on her bed again.

….but what was that growing speck in the distance? It was _fast, _shooting straight toward her. Could it be…? It was! Now that he was getting nearer, she could almost hear him shouting something.

Gehouwahthaay? Geh ouwah theay. Get out wah thay? _Oh_! Get out of the way! Elsa immediately flung herself to the side, having the good sense to swing open the window as she did so.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Jack rocketed through the air, white hair slicked back and blue eyes squinted against the tearing wind. He needed to fly faster. Either he would be on time or too late. There was no in between.

He'd really blown it. Not only had Pitch escaped him, but he had given the Nightmare King the perfect opportunity to get his filthy hands on the vulnerable snow queen of Arendelle. Jack could hardly believe that he mulled over telling the other Guardians about Pitch for an _entire day_ without thinking once of her safety.

Gee. Great Guardian he turned out to be.

Now he could see the castle. It didn't look like much from so far away—just like any old house—but he knew it from its spires. All he had to do was angle himself into a gradual slope, in the direction of the queen's high window. It was probably a good idea to slow down, too.

Except the wind wasn't cooperating. "Hey Wind—now's _really_ not the time!" It had done this before. The wind, though usually complacent wherever Jack's whims took them, was as mischievous as he was, and from time to time liked to remind Jack that it had been around long before he had. Jack struggled against the jetstream, but its grip was firm. His body hurtled through the air like a harpoon.

The queen sat unsuspecting in her windowsill, alone and safe. But not for long.

"Get out of the way. Get out of the way! _GET OUT OF THE_—"

But the wind liked Jack. As soon as he considered himself a gonner, it released him just in time for him to slow down enough _not_ to die on impact—but still enough to hurt.

So Jack tumbled head over heels through the opening, landing in a pile of…snow?

_Ow_. Pulling himself free, he blinked the snow free from his eyes, and looked about the room. The queen stood near the open window, blue eyes staring wide into his, mouth parted open in shock.

The Guardian of Fun parted his own mouth in a guilty grin and gave the young woman a sheepish finger-wave.

That's when she lost it.

Jack couldn't remember hearing a laugh he liked so much. It was much louder than what he would have expected from the proper royal, and it was immediately and intensely _contagious_. Jack found himself gripping his sides upon the floor and laughing harder than he had in ages, while the queen leaned against the windowsill, struggling hard for control and failing repeatedly.

"Haha! I'm so—pfft!" snorted the queen. "E-excuse me. I am so sorry. Haha! A-Are you alright?" Jack laughed freely at her attempt at concern, and stood, wiping snow off his pants and freezing tears from the corners of his eyes.

"Woo! Never better," he chuckled, looking around. "Sooo. You redecorate while I was gone or…?" At the mention of the snow, the queen sobered up noticeably, though good humor persisted in her expression.

"Ah...it's not from last time, if that's what you're thinking. I did it. In my sleep." She shrugged.

"In your _sleep—_?" A weak knock sounded on the door. Jack raised his eyebrows, and Elsa stopped dead.

"Elsa? Elsa. I-I couldn't help but…but hear your laugh. Are you…talking to someone?"

"Don't worry," said Jack. "It's only Jack Frost." Elsa shot Jack a horrified glance and slapped her hand over his mouth, her expression ordering him into silence. "Blech!" said Jack, attempting to tear free. "Would you calm down? She can't hear me, anyhow."

"Elsa? W-Would you let me in? I know it's been awhile, but…I've met someone recently—"

"Who is that?" asked Jack, genuinely curious.

"My sister," mouthed Elsa, then, "I'm sorry to disturb you, Anna. I was reading a…funny report." A pause.

"Oh…" said the voice that was Anna's. "Can I…can I see it, maybe? Um. I-I mean. If…if that's alright." Elsa gave a heartfelt sigh.

"…I don't think that's a good idea, Anna. Maybe some other time. I have many reports to go through, and I have nasty…cold. I wouldn't want you to catch it." Silence again on the other end. Jack frowned.

"O-Okay. Um…see you later, I guess." A pat-pat of slippered feet faded into quiet.

"Why'd you do that?" Jack asked a moment later. "You could have let her in; you know she can't see me. I'm sure she's used to the mess." He nodded at a snow pile, but Elsa shook her head.

"No, I couldn't." She grimaced. "Anna doesn't know about my powers…no one does. Only my parents knew, and they're gone now." She rubbed at her arms, her calm voice resonating hidden emotion. "She can't _ever_ know. _No one_ can ever know. I must learn control so _no one_ will ever find out." Jack was at a loss for words. "All I do is hurt people, Jack," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I-I don't…" She shook her head, and then locked her steady blue gaze on his. "Will…will you still help me?"

Jack didn't understand why he did it. Then again, a lot of what he did around Elsa didn't make much sense. He reached out to her, his palms brushing against her cool arms, and drew her in fast and close. He heard her give a slight inhale of surprise. "What do you think I am—heartless?" Resting his chin against the top of her head, he squeezed her tight. Her hair smelled nice. "Of course I'll help, idiot." A pause.

"Um, ah…Th-Thank you, um, Mr. Frost," said the queen, parting and distancing herself from him. She tucked a fair lock of hair behind her ear, and the good humor resurfaced. She raised an eyebrow. "…But the idiot remark was unnecessary. I'm not the one who crash-landed through a pupil's window." She smirked. Jack took a theatrical step back, feigned a gasp.

"Your _majesty_. Is this how you speak to your _tutor_?" He tapped his foot impatiently and checked a watch that wasn't there. "I am afraid that I haven't the time for this _impudence_. My services are needed elsewhere—"

"Why are you talking like that? Your grammar certainly improved but your inflections—" Oops. Guess Queen Elsa of Arendelle wouldn't recognize a dramatically posh UK accent, would she? Now that he thought of it…

"Ay, queeny. Tell me. Do you know where London is?" She blinked, baffled.

"I…can't say I've heard of it—"

"Singapore? Sydney? New York? Tokyo? How about South America? Russia, even?" Her arms uncrossed and recrossed in agitation.

"Listen, I know my islands, my kingdoms, _and_ my villages….but these names you mention are more foreign than even Berk is to me. I've never heard them." Jack smiled wide, excitement sparkling in his blue eyes. His open palms faced her, moving back and forth in a reassuring and calming gesture.

"What if I told you…Now listen, okay? What if I told you…I could show you the _world_?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: SHINING, SHIMMERING, SPLENNNDID! Oh my goodness. I just reread the reviews from last chapter, and I'm dying. Not Elsa-leaning-against-the-window-Jack-just-crashed-through-dying, but close enough. I can't believe I didn't notice that reference. Actually, I can, but that's beside the point. If someone wants to write an Aladdin-ROTG-Frozen crossover fic, I would love you with all my heart-soul….and leave a review singing your praises with a point starting with each letter of your screen name. I'm not even joking. Jack could secretly be Aladdin or something. I'm telling you, this has some serious hilarious potential. **

…**CHAPTER 10! I promise my future author's notes won't be as obnoxiously long as this. I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying this fic; please tell me what you think, good or bad. Elsa's finally softening up, the Guardians are still scouring the world for Pitch, Pitch is as dubious as ever, and Jack is developing feelings he hasn't experienced in 300 years of living. It begs the question…what more crap will I put you through next?**

Elsa blinked, her elegant brows knitting together in confusion. "You mean…there…there are others? Beyond the Great Waters?" Jack nodded eagerly, pulling her toward the window he careened through moments before. It was still open, framing her kingdom in an ordinary winter morning. Whiteness covered roofs; a pale sun glinted off stubborn frost frozen thinly along the salted streets. Her people bustled about in their winter gear, carrying various wares, while merchants barraged those passing by with entreaties. Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezed her sideways companionably.

"You got it!" He made a dramatic sweeping motion towards the kingdom outside. "Weselton, Corona, DunBroch, Berk…those are just a few in the immediate area. But there are thousands of new places and things out there to see beyond the Waters. _Especially_ technology-wise. Queeny, you'll be blown away." His voice dripped with enthusiasm. She broke her gaze away from the winter outside to meet his, blue eyes the size of saucers. If what Jack said were true, the impact on Arendelle and the surrounding nations could be enormous. Though for good or for ill, she wasn't quite sure. Did she _want_ to know about these peoples? She ducked out of his hold with grace.

"Well," started the queen, "It-it does sound interesting, but—" Jack held up a pale hand, its thumb balancing his crook with ease.

"But we can't go yet. You're too heavy to carry or guide across the Waters, so you'll have to learn to fly first. It'll be a treat—after we're finished with your 'tutoring'." He sneered slightly at the word. "I'll be your tour guide." At this reveal he smiled, plopping casually on the window bench, crook rested on his knees. Elsa frowned.

"You think I'm heavy?" Jack's smile capsized.

"Is that really all you got from that?"

"I suppose that answers the question," said the queen coolly, frown deepening. He got up.

"Whoa whoa—_anything's_ heavy when you're carrying it for 1000—"

"Is that why you carry a staff?" He shook his head, eyes squinting in disbelief.

"Don't give me that; it's not the same at all!" A pale finger pointed in Elsa's direction, its owner's visage an odd mixture of sarcasm, frustration, and concern. It was rather funny. Elsa hid a smile behind contemplative fingers. "Now _you're_ the one being ludicrous. Look, I _need_ this to—" He stopped, his odd expression subsiding into blankness.

"You need it to what?" Jack blinked, a sudden white grin on his face.

"That's _it_! That's what you need! A _conductor_. Like my staff!" He tapped it against the ice-covered floor decisively, patterned frost splaying anew across its surface. Elsa's expression grew puzzled.

"What do you—"

"Tell me. How'd you get your powers? You don't have memory loss by any chance, do you?" His dark brows rose eagerly. Did he _want_ her to have memory loss? Anna's face flashed across her mind.

"No, and I've had them since birth. They seem to get…stronger with age."

"Oh." Jack's enthusiasm dropped noticeably for a moment, then rekindled. "Well, maybe that doesn't matter. Listen, this staff helps me to channel my powers. I used to think it was the source, but that wasn't true. It's more like a _conductor_." He had her interest now.

"So…so you think that's all I need? A conductor?" Her heart palpitated in her chest. This could be the perfect medium between the two options already presented to her: learn complete control with Jack for who knows how long or give her powers to the Gray Man after a few lessons. This new option certainly seemed like a happy compromise.

"That's right!" Jack jumped up on the window's bench, crouching to her level. "Did your parents…._find_ anything at your birth? A staff similar to mine, for example." The queen shook her head.

"No. As I'm told, nothing was out of the ordinary. Besides the bits of snow that appeared when I sneezed." Jack nodded, considering.

"Hmm. Well maybe…maybe it can be any old stick. Maybe we just have to find it!" He jumped down, righting himself.

"Possibly…"

"Yes! I'm sure of it. I'd be in pretty sad shape without this." He rolled his staff across his elbow and flung it around, catching it skillfully in his palm. "It's no wonder you're having difficulties. It's out there; it _has_ to be." Despite herself, Jack's enthusiasm was rubbing off on Elsa. _What if…what if he was _right_?_

"Well, where would it be, then?" He grinned.

"If you're looking for a book, go to the library." He gestured outside.

"You…you mean…the _forest_?" Elsa looked toward the edge of her kingdom, where the trees hugged its edges with naked, snowy branches. He made it seem so obvious.

"You got it!" Elsa smiled wide, and for a moment Jack's expression changed to something she didn't understand. He coughed, turning away from her briefly. "Well, let's go!" He pointed to the window with his staff.

"Yes," agreed the queen. "Um…I do have a request, however. If you don't mind." Jack paused.

"Which is…?"

"We need to go somewhere where I won't be discovered. Somewhere even the icemen don't go. I…don't go out often. I'd rather not have to explain myself." She looked down for a moment, then into Jack's eyes. They had that odd expression in them again. He blinked, offering her a slight, toothless smile.

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged. How about the wood at the edge of that mountain? Looked pretty desolate from up top." The mountain to which he referred was obvious enough; people stayed away from it because of avalanches, but that shouldn't be a problem for the two of them. She nodded in agreement.

"Alright, Mr. Frost. Let's go then: to the mountain's edge."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Happy New Year! Thank you for your continued support. I'm not a fan of stretching a story until it dwindles into mindlessness. I'd rather leave it on a high note. That being said, there will be about five more chapters in this fic. My area is supposed to accumulate 6-12 inches (15.2-30.5 centimeters) of snow tomorrow. I'm taking this as a sign that Jack and Elsa want me to stay home and finish their story before school starts in a week. I'm determined. As always, reviews are much appreciated. -BlueSuedeShoes23**

Jack and a hooded queen floated and strode down the street, sidestepping small patches of sleet marring the snow-cleared lane. With equal care, a number of Arendellians did likewise, their chattering, booted footsteps, and the creaking of carriage wheels a contextual drone. Jack yawned. He glided beside the queen, his body resting along the span of his conductor, barefeet supported against its curve and hands folded across the opposite end. He weaved in and out of the traffic, steering the staff like the nose of a ship. "Hey queeny," called Jack. "Why aren't I flying you again?" The queen didn't answer, but continued to plod forward with purpose, face buried deep within her cowl. He ducked over to her, peering inside. "Hey. Why won't you answer me?"

"You know why," Elsa hissed, blue eyes flashing inside the darkness of her hood. "I can't be seen talking to you or flying in the sky. I'll look mad. Bewitched. You're invisible, _remember_?" Jack rolled his own blue eyes, searching the hood again.

"You don't need my help to do that. People are already giving you looks. It's too warm to be wearing a hood up. It's not even _snowing_—"

"Would you move out of the way, please?" replied the darkness of the hood. "I nearly ran into that woman."

"But the hood—"

"_It's staying up." _

"Fine, fine. Keep it up." He glided once more alongside her. "Arouse suspension. See if I care," he looked over at the queen, his mouth scrunched to the side and brows angled, but her hooded features revealed no sign of a reaction. Seemed as if the royal he met that first night was back with vengeance. Jack floated on. _Is it stress—? _

Before he could complete the thought, a group of children tore their way into view, laughing and shouting in glee as they hurled lobs of snow at each other. Jack peeked up and watched them. The snow was too powdery to make good snowballs, bursting into white flakes before proper impact. He grinned. "One sec, queeny. Guardian business." Not waiting for her to protest, he shot his way over to the group. "Hey, wanna make some _real_ snowballs?" The children did not acknowledge him, but went along with their game to the chagrin of innocent bystanders.

No believers here. Ah, well. He bent down and set his hand in a snow heap pressed along the street edge. The briefest, palest blue light pulsed throughout, emitted a crackling sound. He righted himself and stole a glance over at the queen, who had stopped to watch the spectacle with gloved hands folded against her chest, her expression a mystery beneath the cowl.

"Hey, over here! The snow's better over here," said a child. The other children dashed to the area, and from then on the fun-factor increased ten-fold. Solidly packed snowballs whizzed in every direction, meeting their marks with satisfying _splats!_ Jack looked to the queen again; her hands gripped the sides of her hood.

"Hey," said Jack as he laughed with the playing children, "don't underestimate me, kiddos. This entire block now has the best packing snow Jack Frost has to—" A sensation, like a muffled punch in the gut, passed through him, and a giggling child exited him from behind. Jack balked and clutched at his stomach. As he recovered enough to glance up, he observed the queen take a hesitant step toward him. _She saw. _ Rolling his shoulders back, he wiped his face clear of hurt to replace it with cool acceptance. He strutted over to her.

"Ah, yeah. That happens sometimes." He shrugged, but tell-tale emptiness clawed at him. He ignored it. The black of the cowl stared back, unresponsive. "But um. It's not a big deal, really. The other guardians have been helping me get believers for a while, but these things take time..." The hooded figure sidled close to his side, and a cool hand grasped at his own. The cowl shifted, the queen's face peered out, eyes looking up at him. She smiled lightly, her expression saying it all: _I understand. _ With that said, she retreated back into the cowl and guided the winter spirit a few more steps towards their destination, squeezing his hand, then letting it go.

Jack's face burned with coldness. He walked on like a zombie, thankful that the queen's covering hood prevented her from glancing over at him. Now this…this was a different sort of rush than the first time. He swallowed, peeped over at the slim figure mobile beside him—

Hurried footsteps; a girlish giggle, a manly chuckle—_wham! _ For the second time, someone passed through Jack, then against Elsa. The queen hit a slippery patch violently with a surprised shout, her feet flying up in the air, her fair head aimed for the hard cobbled road—

Jack swooped under her, catching the royal in appropriate princess-style, and set her down gingerly. Her hood had fallen in the slip, but her face did not turn to him in thanks. No, instead it stared in horror at the two figures before them. "A-Anna…" stuttered Elsa.

"Elsa…" said the red-headed girl. Jack noted the physical similarities between her and the queen. "How did you…you just…_floated_ there. In midair!" The young man standing next to her nodded in agreement without ceasing, his mouth gaping. He shook his head as if to clear his mind.

"Anna! Please, stand back, my love. Your sister…she's a witch!" People bustling among the street began to notice, gather round. Was Elsa's breath…condensing before? Anna clutched at the young man's arm, and Jack moved slightly in front of Elsa, staff angled in front of her.

"No, Hans, she would never hurt me—"

"But Anna…How do you know? You saw it—" Jack's temper flared.

"She's not a witch!" His cry, of course, went unnoticed.

"She's my _sister_, Hans. Elsa. W-what was that?" The crowd about them thickened, muttered amongst themselves. The queen took a controlling breath.

"Don't be silly, Anna. It must have been a trick of the light. I like to go out for a stroll sometimes—"

"But you _tripped_, Elsa. Bad. You were going to hit your head and then—"

"And then you hovered. _Midair_," said an accusing voice from behind. "I saw it too." They turned. A fat man with rolled sleeves and stained apron stepped forward out of the crowd, a bell jingling to a stop and sign creaking over his bald head: _Hansel's Assorted Hams_.

"Mr. Hansel," gasped the queen, voice shaking. She blinked, collected herself, and faced the crowd. "Now, now, everyone. Go back to your business. This talk of witchcraft is absurd." Her voice raised an octave, almost pleading, "I am your queen. _Nothing_ more."

"_Nothing_ _more_?" boomed the fat man. "Our dear princess Anna and her fiancé saw it with their own eyes. As did I—the _head_ of the butcher's guild!" He also turned to the crowd. "Did not _any_ of you see it?"

"Well," said a small voice, "I might've…"

"Me too!" said another eagerly.

"As did I!" confirmed a third.

A dark whinny sounded through the building affirmations, and Jack's head spun toward it: a Nightmare, shrouded in black sand. It turned, making for the houses beyond—

"_Jack." _ The inflection on his name caused him to pivot back to the royal. Her lips barely moved. "Please. _Help_ me. I-I'm losing control. I-I can't—" Jack glanced down. The queen's hands shook, her gloves frosting over at the fingertips.

"You know everyone," said a voice like Elsa's. "M-maybe Hans and I were wrong—" The throng protested.

Jack placed his hands on Elsa's cloaked shoulders. He spoke in a hurry, "I'll help you. No, don't look at me. Look at the crowd. But listen, alright? I have to take care of something. It's urgent. I'll distract them, but you're gonna have to run. And fast." The queen blinked, a single tear spilling on her cheek. Jack wiped it away. "_Breathe_. You got this. Just let it go. Everything's gonna be fine." He removed his hands. "Ready, Elsa?" She took a breath, gave a near imperceptible nod. "One, two, _three_!" Jack slammed his staff against the road, and a swirling whiteness cloaked them all—a sudden blizzard. The crowd screamed, jostling into one another, and Jack scooped the queen up, flying as far as he dared with her.

The pair exited the mini-storm, and he set her down. "_Run_, Elsa! The blizzard won't last. Go to the mountain. I'll meet you there!" He rocketed off in the direction of the prowling Nightmare.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Elsa ran panting into the fold of the wood. Luckily for her, the Arendellians she had sprinted past were too fixated on the small freak storm beyond to pay attention to a hooded figure darting among city shadows. Elsa slowed now, but did not stop until the sparse screen of the bare forest shielded her kingdom from sight.

Finally, she halted. A pale, harsh light flickered from her hands. Snow fell about her in droves. The undressed trees creaked against a rising wind.

The queen let out a long-suffering sob, knees falling to the ground. Control was an illusion.

"Tsk, tsk," said a voice. "Dearest queen…what _have_ you done?"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Wow, almost 100 reviews! Thank you! I know it's not perfect, so I really do appreciate your support. I would have had this chapter up sooner, but our beloved FF decided to have technical problems… Anywho, only a few more chapters to go! -BlueSuedeShoes23**

Elsa choked back a sob and sprang upright, whirling toward the voice. "Gah!" It was the Gray Man. Did she just—?

"I-I'm so sorry! Go! Before I hurt you again. I-I can't—" The chaotic flurry about them pulsed, churned faster.

"Oh, _Shut it," _he snapped, wincing and clutching at his shoulder. "Sorry isn't going to—" He stopped, his voice a dulled blade. "Ah, what I mean is…sorry doesn't _fix_ things. Being who I am, I'm fine. _Obviously_." He uncovered his shoulder, revealing dark particles buzzing round it and filling in a small gash. "Just use what you've learned from—" An additional flash.

"_Oi_!"

"Gray Man, please—you'll only make it worse!" The storm about them intensified further, slicing through the trees around them, rattling bare branches and tearing at the pair's clothes and hair. He huffed, rolling his injured shoulder experimentally.

"Gray Man? Sounds like some comic book character—_Ouch!_ I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose!" Elsa shook her head, tears threatening to spill over.

"_Please_. I don't want to hurt—" A nearby tree shuttered and snapped.

"Honestly. What have you and Jack been doing all morning? Snogging? _Control_ _it_, woman!" The wind howled louder in response, reaching for its crescendo. Elsa raked at her face.

"I haven't _learned_ anything yet! _Please…_" He covered his ears against the noise, scowling as if Elsa and her powers were stubborn flies.

"Didn't he teach you _anything_?" he said through clenched teeth. "He had to have taught you _something_."

"I don't…I don't...wait! I need a conductor—like his staff!" Elsa looked desperately toward the quaking overgrowth above her. A groan.

"He _is_ an idiot, isn't he? You're not going to find a staff like his _anywhere _on this earth. _Trust_ me, I've tried." The Gray Man might as well have punched her in the gut.

"B-but with my—?"

"Your powers are similar, but _not the same_." Elsa sucked in a sharp breath. Yes, he was right. Jack's enthusiasm at the idea clouded her judgment. "That's _all_ he told you? Nothing else?" She paused. The wind continued its uproar.

"No, actually…He said…he said to just…_let it go_." The Gray Man's golden eyes rolled.

"Oh, how _helpful_. Well then, your majesty." He uncovered his ears to wave his hands sarcastically. "_Let it go_." Nothing to lose. She closed her eyes, Jack's voice an encouraging echo in her mind: _Breathe, _he said. _You got this. Just let it go._

The wind died; its howling soothed into a gentle _clank-clunk_ against branches. _Let it go. _The wild flurry calmed into a mild snowfall and was gone. _Let it go._ The lights flickering at the queen's hands snuffed out, extinguished. She exhaled slowly, opening her lids.

"Ah-hem. Well. That was unexpected—whoa! Where _are_ you going!" The royal bolted forward, toward the mountain looming high above the claws of the winter wood.

Elsa waved a hand with purpose; a bright spell of sparkling white flakes burst forth. _Let it go. _ Another graceful gesture—delicate, spidery frost formed in the air, settled along the last of the tree roots. _Let it go._ She stepped forward with pointed toe at the mountain's foot. Sleet splayed out before it like a one-sided firework, a shining slate of glass in the midday sun. She glanced over at the Gray Man, whose mouth hung wide. The queen laughed, quite disbelieving herself, and a cheerful flurry filled the air as she did. He coughed.

"Wow...so…you let it go." She smiled at him.

"It's funny how some distance makes everything feel small!" she called. He trotted after her.

"Yes, well, that is very nice—"

"And you know what? The fears that once controlled me…can't get to me at all!" He raised a non-existent eyebrow.

"Let's not get carried away…oh, Moon. _Please_ tell me that rhyme was unintentional." The queen ignored him, but darted further up the mountain, snow, ice, and other wintry mess following in her wake.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A blur of white and blue dashed from building to building in the kingdom of Arendelle, searching there, peering here, but finding nothing. _Where _is_ it? _The Nightmare couldn't have been out of Jack's sight for more than a minute, but already it was lost to him. A cold heart hammered in the winter spirit's chest, and he continued his pursuit, mind flashing through a sequence of images. Pitch, frozen to a tree. Cheeks caved in, hungry-looking. The Nightmare King's precious Black Sand leaking from him haphazardly.

Jack's upper lip curled. His _lucky _escape. No, the Pitch Black from two days ago simply could not have created or tamed a Nightmare. Then was it all for show? A cavern beneath an old bed came to mind—Pitch's home of horror and shadows, where every turn was the wrong one. Smoke, mirrors, and fears. Yes…it was possible.

But if Pitch was strong again, why would he allow himself to be captured by Jack in the first place? He couldn't have gotten anything out of the meeting other than a frostbitten rump and a face full of snow. Jack shook his head. It just didn't make _sense_.

He redoubled his search. Finding the Nightmare must be his first priority; it could lead him to Pitch—the one person who could answer his questions. Arendelle, of all places…

He settled down for a quick peek in another stable. Night_mare,_ so horses. A stable. It kind of made sense. He stepped inside briefly.

"J-Jack Frost?" Jack's heart nearly flew out of his chest, and he pivoted fast toward the voice.

A young man stood inside, dressed in heavy furs. He paused mid-brush to stare at Jack with wide eyes, as did the reindeer next to him. _Lot friendlier-looking than North's,_ Jack noted. "You're…Jack Frost, right?" he repeated.

"Um…Yeah. You…you can _see_ me?" The man's brows furrowed.

"Well, _yeah_."

"But…you're an adult!"

"So?"

"And you…see me." The young man turned to his reindeer.

"Hey. You see this guy too?" The reindeer nodded. "Just checking. Yeah, I can see you. But…you're _Jack Frost_! _The_ Jack Frost!" He shook his head. "Mama Bulda wasn't lying…" His voice trailed off.

"So you're _really_ a believer." The man cleared his throat in appropriate manly fashion.

"If ah, that's what you want to call it, yeah."

Jack shook his head, beaming. "An _adult_, too! Wait till Bunny hears _this_." He grinned, tapping his staff against the floor. "What's your name?"

"Kristoff. This is Sven."

"Sven. Kristoff. You two didn't see a black _thing_ go by here, did ya?" Kristoff and Sven looked at each other.

"Uh, can you be a little more descriptive?" Jack sighed.

"You would know. Well, thanks anyways. I gotta go." He made for the exit with heavy tread, reluctant to abandon two believers—however unusual— on such short notice. But Guardian business came first.

"W-wait!" said Kristoff. "Maybe…maybe we can help. If you're looking for something weird, the trolls will know where to find it." Jack turned back.

"The _trolls_…?"

"From the Valley of Living Rock."

"From the _what_?"

"They raised Sven and me, taught us about you and some others. Trust me, if anyone can find what you're looking for, they can." Jack blinked.

"Can you take me there? I have a grumpy queen waiting by a mountain." Kristoff leaped onto Sven as naturally as water flows downhill.

"Sure, if you can keep up!" The reindeer dashed out of the open stable door with surprising speed, and Jack was quick to follow.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Elsa stood breathless in the heart of her ice castle. It was a marvel to behold. She…didn't know she had it in her. She gaped at it, laughing, then stopped, then laughed again. She turned toward the Gray Man, who seemed almost as incredulous as herself. He cleared his throat, his black robe billowing behind him as he walked toward her.

"Wow. That _was_ unexpected. Well done. But was the change in wardrobe necessary?" Elsa felt her face grow a bit colder.

"Yes, um…I apologize. It was a…in the moment kind of thing." She folded her hands in front of her crystallized gown and looked at her feet. The Gray Man stopped before her.

"So in a way, you lost control. Again." She nodded reluctantly.

"In a way…I suppose that's correct. I…let it go."

"Yes, believe me, I heard the song." Elsa nodded for the second time, embarrassed. However, embarrassed as she was, she couldn't make herself regret what she had done. She hadn't felt so…_free…_in…in _forever_. She smiled again.

"But _look_ at this, Gray Man. I—" He held up a hand.

"I think it's time to bring you back down to earth. Yes, Jack's quip of advice did help you control your powers momentarily. This castle is great, very lovely. But you're missing something important." He stepped in closer, his voice lowering. "If the key to your control is to 'let it go', so to speak…how can you ever have a _proper_ grasp over your abilities? That, in and of itself, is a paradox!" Elsa blinked, stomach knotting. What he said…made some sense. "Furthermore," he continued, "what brought you to the mountain's edge to begin with? You weren't in good shape."

"I-I was running. From some citizens. They were accusing me of witchcraft because, well...," she neglected to finish, "…I was upset. I knew I'd hurt them if I didn't leave, so Jack created a blizzard for cover—"

"Tch. So now they suspect something more than ever, I presume? It's going to be difficult to talk your way out of _that_." Elsa's hands fell.

"…yes."

"Superstitious bunch. They will probably _hate_ you." She swallowed.

"…yes."

"Your sister, too." Her chin fell, her voice a whisper,

"…_yes_."

"But there _is_ a way to solve this, your majesty." The queen perked up at this, and the Gray Man's golden eyes glinted. "You have the ability now. Please. For the sake of your kingdom..._Give me your powers._" A slight snowfall blanketed the frozen floor.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Not much to say. Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! I appreciate every single one. Only a few chapters to go! -BlueSuedeShoes23**

Kristoff and Sven did not stop until reaching the gentle curve of a lesser-used forest road, Jack keeping easy pace overhead. The trio was alone and had been for a good span now. It seemed that after Jack's freakish blizzard dwindled away, the inhabitants of Arendelle kept to their houses. In any case, Jack saw few in the streets as he followed Kristoff and Sven out of the kingdom and into the wide, overgrown forest trail.

Arendelle's surrounding winter woodland loomed over the trio from two sides, the road a dip on its white face. There, Sven snuffed around the barren undergrowth, Kristoff sliding off his ride and flagging Jack down from above. "He's looking for the path. It's tricky to find—even for us." Jack landed, nodding.

"So you were raised by trolls, but you don't know where they live?" He did not attempt to hide his skeptical tone. Kristoff brushed it off, bending with his reindeer to look, gloved hands skimming across the snow.

"If you knew anything about trolls, you wouldn't be saying that." Jack leaned on his staff, watching the spectacle with mild interest.

"I know about elves. Now _they're_ something else." Kristoff ceased his searching and looked at Jack hard, his hat snagging in a bush above his fair head.

"…Elves. _Real_ elves. Are they…are they Papa Yueltide's?" The intensity of the young man's expression caused Jack to lean back further against his conductor.

"Er, you mean Santa? Father Christmas? Yeah, they're his. None too bright, either." Kristoff freed his snagged hat from the bush and shook his head, aghast.

"That's incredible. _Incredible_. They're real." His attention snapped back to Jack, eyes double the intensity of before. "Look, I know you're Jack Frost, alright? But if you don't tell me everything about Papa Yueltide and…and anything else, I'm going to get upset." Jack didn't doubt it. He grinned.

"Look, you focus on finding the path, and I'll give you whatever info you want later. I'm just excited to have another believer—" Sven snorted, pawing at an area slightly to the left of Kristoff.

"Ah! Good_ boy_, Sven! Who's a good boy, who's a good—" The reindeer pranced about merrily—obviously _he_ was the good boy his friend spoke of—but Kristoff ceased, recognition worming its way into his expression. The young man coughed, lowering his head and voice to the reindeer, "Er, good job, buddy." He gave Sven a carrot from his pocket and straightened himself with dignity. "Er, Frost. Follow us here. You won't be able from above. Trees too thick." Jack agreed, not bothering to hide his grin from his companion.

The trio was thus absorbed into a thicker portion of the forest, sifting through it like Narnia's wardrobe of coats until finally reaching the smaller path. Ahead of them through the thinning trees, Jack could make out a clearing. It grew more distinct as they approached, and waiting at its end was a large, circular floor of earth with various round stones arranged arbitrarily about it. Jack stopped, but Kristoff and Sven moved in, Kristoff extending his hands wide in welcome. "Hey guys! It's been awhile." There was a brief pause that allowed Jack to question Kristoff's sanity, but suddenly the rounded rocks began to bowl all about the place.

One after another, the rocks unfurled. "Hey there, Kristoff!"

"It's been awhile, Kristoff!"

"Good to see you, Kristoff!"

"You brought a _friend_, Kristoff!" As one entity, the trolls turned toward Jack with staring eyes. A brief silence commenced.

"_Jack Frost_!" cheered the trolls. They were upon him in a moment. His staff clattered to the ground.

"We know all about you!" said an older one. The winter spirit laughed from his place on the earthen floor.

"Ya don't say—?"

"Yeah, and the other Guardians too! We believe!"

"We believe!" echoed the other trolls.

"We ain't no humans, that's for sure," squeaked a tiny one, leaning into him. Jack laughed again, supporting himself with an arm amid the rocky sea of discovered believers. This little guy was _heavy_.

"Hey guys, really nice to meet you, but I'm in a hurry. Can you help? I have something to find and a queen waiting—" Jack felt a rough grip pull at him, and he was thrust forward. A woman troll held his hand in both of hers.

"Ooo, honey," she said, patting his fingers. "Girls, he's got it _bad_."

"Ooo—he's got it bad!" repeated high, harmonizing voices. Jack shook his head, perplexed.

"I got what—?" The troll released him but inched closer.

"Don't act like you don't know, _Jack Frost_, cause Bulda knows. I see it in your face. You've fallen in love with our Elsa. Arendelle's _Snow_ Queen. How appropriate!"

"He's got it _bad_!" Jack felt a sharp decline of temperature in his face. He attempted to wrench himself free.

"Hey hey hey—you're all rushing to conclusions here, I-I don't—"

"Honey, denying it ain't gonna help. What you need to do is clean yourself up a little—how old _is_ that sweatshirt?" The other trolls nodded amongst each other.

"So he's a bit of a fixer upper," remarked one.

"Hey!" protested Jack.

"So he's got a few flaws."

"Whoa, I—"

"Like his thing with the barefeet, what's up with the barefeet?"

"Wait one second—"

"That's a little outside of nature's laws!"

"Oh _Moon_, you're _singing_. Stop, stop. I'm sorry, but Elsa is waiting by a mountain, and I have to find Pitch—" The merriness of the group died immediately at the name. A hush fell.

"Mama Bulda…," said Kristoff to the woman troll near Jack. "Who's Pitch?" Bulda shook her round head.

"Someone I never taught you to believe in, Kristoff." An older troll stepped forward out of the immobile throng.

"Grand Pabbie," said Kristoff softly. He stood to the side with Sven, watching the old troll hobble over to Jack, the others clearing a path for him.

"Jack Frost," Pabbie announced, grasping Jack's cold hands into his stony ones. He closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them, stared at Jack, and whacked him solidly over the head.

"_Ow_! What was that—you're made of _stone_, you know!"

"You need to go to the mountain _now_. Pitch is here, and he's been in contact with Elsa, who's been in contact with you. You shouldn't have left her!" Jack's face fell, his heart dropping.

"B-but the Nightmare…"

"Was obviously a distraction from the real prize. The queen." Without another word, Jack shot up into the air, face stricken. _I'm an _idiot_._

"We'll call the other Guardians! GO!"

"You'll what?!" Below him the trolls began to dig into the earth, and quickly a circular stone slab was revealed. A larger troll pushed its stone lid aside, and a light—a _Northern_ light—shone out in a great beam straight into the air.

Jack didn't have time for questions. As the great lid hit the ground with a mighty _thud!, _he was gone.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"_Give me your powers." _Instinct told Elsa to run. To run away from this Gray Man and never look back. _But where to? _ said a voice in her head. _Arendelle will hate you. The butcher will make sure of it. You'll mess up again. They'll know. You're alone._

"You're alone, your majesty…" said Pitch. "But you don't have to be. Give them to me, and you can prove yourself to your people! You'll never worry about _messing up_ again." Elsa recoiled. It was as if the man before her had read her mind, her _fears_, exactly for what they were. No, she had to be rational about this. He was offering her the chance of a lifetime. She could be a normal queen. A normal _person_. _I could hug Anna again. _She set her face.

"…yes," said the queen. "I'll do it." The corners of the Gray Man's smile pulled up like taffy.

"_Excellent_," he purred. "Now, take my hands in yours and _concentrate_. You created this castle. This is a simple enough matter for you." She obeyed, her hands shaking slightly. Her first encounter with Jack surfaced in her mind—his cold hands enlaced in hers—but this was less comforting. The Gray Man's hands were thin and hard, and she didn't like it. "Just like that, your majesty. Now, shoot the light I saw before into my hands, and it'll transfer unto me. You're seconds away from relief! Go on!" he urged. Again, the queen obeyed. She closed her eyes and concentrated. A familiar sensation tingled at her fingertips; she felt the light blaze from them, from her palms. Another presence drained it away—the hands she held. She pushed the light further. Vaguely, she heard an unsettling laugh, but she ignored it, pressed on.

Then, as if she had run into brick wall, she experienced a great heaviness. She was a husk, near drained of life. Her breath came out in gasps, and she struggled to open her eyes. The hands threw her from them. She landed on the ground with a skid, fought in vain against her sudden weakness to right herself, to speak.

"Oh dearest queen…," said the Gray Man. "Now _that_ is a side effect I didn't see coming for you. I thought you would die. Well. By the looks of it, you're on your way there." She heard him cackle, then a frantic voice,

"_Elsa!" _Jack's. Her senses whirled: vision blurred, up seemed down, noises came and went. But her sense of taste? That held true. And the queen tasted a familiar something dusting the air near herself and the Gray Man.

Salt. Her head slumped against the iced floor, unable to support it any longer.


	14. Chapter 14

Jack tore through the ice castle entrance, skidding to a stop beside the crumpled, lying form of the queen. With gentle hands, he turned her over.

"Oh, _Elsa_."

The once smooth face of Arendelle's queen was marked with signs of age. Wrinkles creased the sides of her mouth; crows' feet spread at the corners of her eyes. They fluttered open, blurry and unseeing, but the blueness of the youth of moments before was remembered in them. "Jack," she said, voice weak. With an unstable hand Jack smoothed back her hair, tried in vain to keep his voice steady and upbeat.

"H-hey Elsa. See you got a new dress. I like it." Elsa's breath came out in rasps, and her lips moved. He brought her in closer to hear, troubled by how disconcertingly light she was.

"J-Jack," she gasped, "I-I'm sorry. I gave them to him. My powers. I-I just wanted—" Jack was suddenly aware of a looming presence at the other side of the icy room, and fury rose hot in his chest, but for the moment he forced the feeling down for the queen's sake.

"Hey, now. Don't apologize. You're gonna be alright. I'll…I'll figure something out." Elsa gave a feeble smile.

"You don't sound…very reassuring," she wheezed. "W-what do I look like? I-I feel…different." She shuddered under his arms, and he swallowed.

"Ah, you know. Like the queen of Arendelle, of course."

"_Jack_." Weak as she was, her tone left no room for argument.

"You…you have a few wrinkles." Elsa nodded slowly, understanding.

"Figures as much…I'm so…_drained_, Jack…" She coughed violently.

"Alright, hey, shsh. No more talking. I'll figure this out. Everything's gonna be fine." Even to himself, he sounded unconvinced. He smoothed back her soft hair reassuringly again in attempt to counteract his previous tone—not for her, but for himself.

"While your fear of loss is _exhilarating_, I think it's time for another reunion, _Jack Frost_." Jack heard the voice. With unhurried movements, he eased Elsa back on the frozen floor.

"I'll be back, queeny. Hang in there." She nodded, closing her eyes, her breathing ragged.

"Salt, Jack," she murmured. "It's salt." She said no more. He hesitated near her, then pressed his lips with tender haste against her temple. He raised himself from the floor, back turned to the monster behind him.

"_How."_

"How? Well, that's simple enough. Through my _cleverness_—" Jack spun toward him, icy eyes aflame; his crook pointed aggressively in the boogieman's direction.

"How do I help her?_ Tell me!" _Pitch started for a brief moment, then flicked some vagrant Black Sand off his shoulder and sighed deeply.

"By the looks of it, her youth and her powers were intimately intertwined." He shrugged. "I guessed it would happen. When she gave them to me, she gave me her years. Insignificant to an immortal like myself, but—"

"You sucked her _dry_! Give them back! You _disgusting_ old—"

"_I did what I had to do. _You had your chance to rule beside me, but you fed me to the dogs. But now I see it was _fate_. Yes, I was meant to rule the world with cold and dark—_alone_." A fresh coating of ice splintered around the feet of his black cloak. "Do you know what Nightmares do?" His voice rose. "When they sense fear from their master? _Do you know what they do?" _

With that, a cascade of serrated icicles blasted out of his gray hand. The agile spirit dodged out of reach, the icicles shattering against the far wall, and their pieces landing on the incapacitated royal with a shower like snow. She gave a soft moan. Jack cursed, throwing himself far from Elsa. _He_ was the target, not her.

In the midst of his dodge, a torrent of Black Sand slammed into him from behind, careening him spinning into a pillar on the opposite end. Its ice cracked loud and distinct, and he slumped sprawling to the floor, tasting blood. He wiped a warm trickle from the corner of his mouth, clutching at his side. Yes, his ribs were definitely bruised, maybe broken. The black particles lingered in the air about him like dust. A stray, insignificant few were drawn in by his speedy intakes of breath.

His brows furrowed and he smacked his lips. _What is that taste?_ He stole a glance over at Elsa's unmoving form. It dawned on him. _It's salt, Jack. Salt. _ But what did that _mean_?

His eyes scanned the dusted floor frantically for his staff, finding it not a meter from where he'd landed—only to have a gray hand tear it from his gaze and callously crack it over a knee.

An abrupt pain in the stomach pierced Jack through, and he cried out. Pitch tossed the pieces of the staff aside as if they were matchwood. With cruel fingers he lifted the weakened winter spirit by his white hair, causing him to cry out once more. The boogieman smiled, revealing pointed teeth.

"Oh, _Jack_. You are quite resilient….I should have thrown you harder. No matter. Now do you regret letting the Nightmares do the dirty work for you?" The vice grip held Jack firm, and the loss of his staff ached in the pit of his stomach like a void. Pitch raised him higher off the floor to become level with his sneering face. Jack cried out again, swatting at his arm without effect.

Slowly, gaining speed, black particles wasted fast from an uneven half of the Nightmare King's features, trickling to the floor. With horror, Jack saw the grin extend leftways, the already sunken cheek cave in further, the golden eye waste away along with the rest. In its place grinned a staring black skull, juxtaposed against the wholesome other side. "_Nightmares,_" spat Pitch. "Ill-behaved things. Best kept in low numbers, I've learned." His tone was not carefree as his words suggested. Jack put on a brave face.

"A-A skull? C-can't say it's working for you, Pitch… a 'lecherous old man' might suit you better—" Pitch dug his fingers deeper into Jack's scalp, coaxing another yelp out of him.

"You can't disguise your fear, Jack. It is a friend to me." He grinned—the left side of his face, in particular, could do little else. "_This…"_ He thrust Jack's face closer to the fleshless side. Jack struggled, shouted out in disgust. "…is _your_ doing. And you shall die for it, knowing that the entire world will soon be engulfed by my darkness and ice—"

A conglomerative shout at the castle entrance. There stood the four other Guardians, battle stances ready and prepared to charge.

"If you take a step further, I'll kill them both," declared Pitch, voice even. Both? _Elsa!_ Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw a Nightmare—the one he saw before in Arendelle, he was sure—looming over her on the floor, pawing at the ground eagerly, snorting about her aged neck.

"_Leave her alone!"_ The grip tightened in Jack's scalp, rising a gasp out of him, and he swatted at his captor's arm feebly, weak blue sparks igniting at his hands. Without his conductor, Jack's powers ambled inside him aimlessly. _Concentrate. You have to concentrate!_ But he felt weak, battered. He squeezed his eyes shut with the effort. How did Elsa ever manage it?

"Pitch Black," bellowed a voice. North's.

Pitch sneered, "North. Bunnymund. Toothiana. Sandman. How _wonderful_ to see you. Seems that wishes do come true—now I can destroy you all more conveniently. These new winter powers need some _practice_." Jack heard a womanly gasp that was Tooth's.

"H-how—!"

"Oh, don't worry. You're precious Guardian wouldn't dream of cooperating with me. But the struggling snow queen of Arendelle was _more_ than ready to. Her powers are mine, and she lays over there on the floor, _a dying old hag—_" Jack had enough. With focused effort, he swung his legs back and smashed them with force against the Nightmare King's middle. "GAH!" He lost his grip, and Jack ripped himself away, sprinting over to Elsa and calling out,

"GO!" The other Guardians, comprehending the brief order, began to launch their assault while the boogieman was momentarily out of sorts.

Jack jumped and collided with the Nightmare that loomed over her, mouth poised to snap at her neck. It was caught off guard, bursting to meager particles with a plaintive whinny upon impact. Relieved, Jack stumbled towards the pieces of his broken staff nearby. He almost had it, then a deafening blast overhead—without thought, he twisted himself backward to land face down on the unmoving queen, shielding her. In the fray beyond him, the massive castle chandelier fell in shards of ice with a noise like breaking glass, revealing a gaping hole in the ceiling where sunlight filtered through merrily and warm in defiance of the raging battle inside.

"We got 'em, mates!" shouted Bunnymund.

"Ha ha!" boomed North.

"Wait, guys…," cautioned Tooth.

With an audible shuffle of chinking and clinking, a tall and dark figure emerged out of the remnants of the decimated chandelier. The Guardians gasped collectively. "Is that all you got?" taunted Pitch. "You'll have to do better than that. I am _darkness_. I am _ice_. I am…_invincible_!" _You melted the ice before the crash, show-off, _thought Jack begrudgingly. Pitch was certainly a fast learner.

An idea hit Jack like a compact snowball. "Not _darkness_ and ice…_salt _and ice."

"Sorry, Jack. What was that?" Pitch put a hand to his ear. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of my triumph." He cackled, and Jack joined in. The Nightmare King stopped, and the Guardians looked to Jack, silent but perplexed.

"Pitch Black…your sand…isn't _sand_, is it? It's _salt_." Pitch rolled his one eye, the skull-half of his face having none.

"I told you before that Black Sand is difficult to come by. Were you listening or too busy chucking snowballs at me like a _child_?" The grinning skull on his left highlighted the malevolence in his expression on his right. "So _yes_, this is salt." He rubbed his fingers together, and a mini cascade of it glided to the floor. "I turn it this lovely dark color when I use it, and it does its job wonderfully, as you know so well. I get it in bulk from a superstitious butcher here in Arendelle. Such a fool. He actually believes I'll spare him if he continues supplying me with his guild's salt rations. I even made him demand more—" Jack righted himself. It was times like these when he wished he wore shoes—it was hard to avoid the ice shards that covered the floor.

"_You're_ the fool, Pitch." A pause.

"Yes, I suppose a fool like yourself would think that—"

"Do you know what salt and ice _do_ together? Do you know what people put down on iced roads? Salt! They put down salt. _To make the ice melt_." Pitch blinked his one eye.

"I don't follow…oh. Oh dear. You can't be serious. You're…you're actually saying I'm going to melt…." Pitch's mouth twitched. "You think…you think…Ha. Haha. Hahahaha—" The Nightmare King howled with mirth, and Bunny cleared his throat, muttering under his breath,

"Uh, mate. If ya haven't noticed…he's doing a fine job with both…"

"Hoo! He thinks I'm a _snowman_—"

"He's hardly even affected by all _four_ of us—" prompted Tooth.

"Hahaha _Someone's_ had one too many snow days—"

"We need plan," announced North in a whisper that wasn't a whisper. The Sandman crossed his arms, nodding eagerly.

"_Look_," said Jack, shuffling slyly across the floor toward his broken staff, "I'm tellin you, this could work. Have you seen his face? That black skull isn't bone; it's hardened black _salt. _He's a complete drama queen, all about the show. The Nightmares did that to him; he doesn't _have_ a body anymore, just his formed sand and shadow—now shadow, _salt_ _and_ _ice_!"

"I don't know, Jack…that sounds nuts."

"Yeah, there's no way—"

"It is insanity—" The Sandman held up a hand, and all five of the Guardians stopped dead—not for noise, but for the absence of it. Pitch had stopped cackling. They turned slowly around.

Pitch stood amidst the shattered chandelier as immobile as a statue, golden eye fixated on the end of his nose. Something trickled down its length, around its curve, and off its end in a drip. The Guardians stared, eyes wide. Pitch broke the silence,

"For all that is dark and terrible…I'm actually _melting_."

**A/N: There will be one more chapter, then an epilogue. Thank you for all the support! It's been a blast. If you'd like, please tell me what you think in a review. I'd love to hear your thoughts-good or bad. :)**


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